Moving On
by mustlovecat
Summary: A return to the pool table. DL One shot.


**A/N **Sorry for the lack of updates. They will probably still be slow in coming over the next week or so. But then I will be off work recovering from surgery, and once I emerge from the haze of painkillers, I'll have some time to kill so I will gladly indulge myself in my favourite hobby as we all anticipate Season 4!

**Disclaimer**Jerry hasn't called yet. So I still own nothing.

"Jeez, Messer, how the hell did you get this thing in here in the first place?" Sheldon asked as he, Don, Adam and Danny awkwardly moved the latter's pool table towards the front door.

"I had it delivered," Messer replied, meeting three glares with a bit of a shrug.

Don's expression was one full of determination. "We can do this. We're four of New York's finest, for God's sake. We've taken down some of the nastiest criminals in this city. We can sure as hell move a freakin' pool table."

"It is just a table," Danny pointed out.

"Right. Just a table," Sheldon scoffed. "This thing ways close to a ton! It didn't occur to you to sell this with the place?"

"My pool table goes where I go," Danny explained. "It's got a lot of sentimental value." He shot a wink over his shoulder towards his wife, who was standing in the doorway to the bedroom with a smirk on her face.

Lindsay folded her hands over her growing abdomen, enjoying more of the same camaraderie that had filled their home for most of the past two hours. With her due date less than ten weeks away, she and Danny had finally signed a lease on a larger apartment in the city. Fortunately, their friends had been gracious enough to help with the move, considering she was not able to do much.

"Sentimental value?" Don laughed. "I'm flattered that you have enjoyed me kicking your ass so much."

Danny shook his head with a smile. "Sorry, man, but my wife knows her way around this thing better than you do."

"Ouch," Sheldon smirked.

"Hey, Linds, once this thing is settled in your new place, it's me and you," Flack challenged. "A hundred bucks says I can take you."

In spite of herself, Lindsay blushed slightly at his choice of words. "You might have to wait a couple months, Don," she said. "My centre of gravity is a little off right now."

"You're on, Monroe."

As they made their way through the front door into the hallway, Adam studied the table. "At least we can pile a bunch of the boxes on this once we get it loaded in the truck. This thing should hold a few hundred pounds," he hypothesized.

"Three hundred at the very least," Danny agreed.

Flack raised his eyebrows.

Lindsay just chuckled to herself, then disappeared back into the bedroom to resume the packing of their clothes. As the guys struggled to get the pool table out to the U-Haul they had rented, she folded up some sweaters and piled them into a box. Feeling tired though after only a few minutes, she sat down on the edge of the bed for a rest.

She bit her lip, feeling warm as she got lost in the memories the men's conversation had stirred up …

"_Hey, Montana, you wanna come over and watch the game tonight?" Danny asked as they both gathered their stuff from their lockers. _

_She shut her locker door and looked at him apologetically. "Can I get a rain cheque? It's been a long tour, and all I want right now is a hot bath and my bed."_

"_You got it." He was not about to push, not when things had been going so well between them since her return from Montana. The light, flirty moments and friendly banter that had characterized their relationship in the past now seemed to define it in the present. "All right. Well, at least let me walk you to the subway."_

_She smiled. "Okay."_

_Passing Mac in the hallway, they said goodnight, then headed into the elevator together and travelled down the thirty-five floors. Out in the beautiful spring evening, Lindsay took a deep breath, feeling slightly invigorated by the fresh air. _

"_You're on at nine tomorrow?" Danny asked as they headed along the sidewalk towards the subway station._

"_Yeah. You're not on 'til three, right?"_

_He nodded. Unconsciously, he had moved so he was walking right next to her, their arms almost brushing. When he realized how close they were, out of respect for the boundaries that still existed between them, he moved a bit to put some distance between them. _

_Lindsay noticed and she furrowed her brow. Realizing he was only reacting to the signals she was sending, she inwardly chastised herself. She was tired of holding him at arm's length when what she really wanted to was to be _in _his arms. "You know, if the offer's still on the table, I guess I wouldn't mind watching the Rockies take a piece out of the Mets."_

_Danny raised his eyebrows. "Those are fighting words, Montana."_

_She grinned. "Yet prophetic."_

_He chuckled. "C'mon, I'm hungry. We'll grab a pizza on the way."_

"_You're always hungry, Messer!"_

_A couple of hours later, they were in his apartment finishing off some of the city's best pizza while Colorado trounced New York. They were sitting together on his leather couch, not much space between them, the atmosphere as relaxed and comfortable as it had been in a long time._

"_We should've put money on this," Lindsay gloated._

"_You might've called the ball game, but how 'bout a little pool?" he suggested._

"_Like you've got a shot there, either."_

_He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Monroe. Put your money where your mouth is." He shut off the TV and walked over into his dining room, setting up the pool table for a game. _

_Lindsay followed him and helped herself to a cue. She watched him, fighting back a smile. He was wearing his green t-shirt, a favourite of hers, and it was taking everything in her not to just jump him. The last vestiges of the wall she had put up between them had crumbled and she was glad she had fought past her fears and decided to come hang out with him tonight._

"_You want some tequila?" he offered once the table was ready to go._

"_Yeah, sure."_

_He went over and poured them each a shot at the bar, taking the opportunity to turn on some music. As he turned back with their drinks in his hand, he laid eyes on her leaning over the table, setting up her first shot, and he just about dropped the glasses. Was she trying to drive him crazy, or was it just an innate talent of hers?_

"_Uh, here you go," he said as he walked over to her._

_She straightened up and took a shot glass from him._

"_Cheers."_

"_Cheers." _

_They both knocked back the bitter liquid, then for a moment their eyes locked. She bit her lip, and he knew that all of her doubts or fears were now just a memory. _

"Hey, babe, you okay?"

Feeling a dip on the bed beside her, Lindsay escaped from her reverie to find her husband sitting next to her. Her face was flushed, she could feel it. "I'm fine."

"He reached over and brushed her hair off her face, tucking a strand behind her ear. "You sure? Maybe you should lie down for a while."

"No, really, I'm okay. I was just daydreaming." She leaned over and brushed her lips over his.

"What was that for?"

She brushed away a hint of lipstick she had left behind on his mouth. "Just a little thank you for never giving up on me."

"I guess for once in my life, I wasn't stupid enough to let something great slip away." He placed a hand on her stomach and was quickly rewarded with the feel of one of their babies kicking. An awed expression crossed his face, despite the fact that this was no longer a novel experience. "Everything we went through got us here, and I gotta tell ya, sweetheart, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world."

She met his lips again, her hands moved up to cup his face.

"We're almost done loading up the truck," he said once they came up for air.

"We really owe the guys. I'm not sure wings and a few beers are going to cut it."

"I know."

She smirked then. "So, sentimental value, huh?"

He grinned. He kissed her forehead, then patted her tummy. "I'll be back."

Lindsay watched her husband leave the room to resume the gathering of boxes then she sighed. In response, one of the twins decided to kick her – _hard_. "C'mon, kiddo. Your daddy's not gonna be happy if he ends up with a soccer star and not a ball player, okay?"

Down on the street, Danny carried another couple of boxes up into the truck where Adam and Sheldon were trying to organize the stuff they had already brought down. Don was staring intently at the pool table, now piled high with the contents of the Messers' glorified studio.

"You okay there, Don?" Danny asked.

"How much you weigh, Messer?"

Danny furrowed his brow. "What?"

Don glanced from his best friend to the table, and a horrified expression crossed his face. "Jeez, Danno. On the pool table?"

Messer smirked. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get this show on the road, boys. Me and my family have a new home to settle into."


End file.
